Life After Bleck
by The Chortling Mermaid
Summary: It's been about a month since Blumiere and Timpani disappeared and the worlds were saved. Nastasia, O'Chunks, and Mimi still live in Castle Bleck. They have their own ways to deal with their grief. They aren't all great ways, but they're sticking together. Rated T for mentions of alcohol
1. Schedule

**A/N: I've been trying to get back into the fandom a little. This is going to be at least a three-shot, I think. It's not related to CBOAZ. Enjoy! And please let me know what you think: concrit welcome.**

 **-FoF**

Nothing is unplanned.

Nastasia tries her best to ensure this. Something is written for every hour of every day. When the day is over, she tucks the page into the folder for the week and moves it into the filing cabinent, for she might need to refrence it in the future. There are five full folders.

There _were_ more.

Sometimes the others will stray from her schedule.

Sometimes Mimi will stay at Merlee's Mansion for an extra hour without calling, or she'll wake up a half hour late. And sometimes on the weekends she stays out and doesn't say where she is going.

That goes in red ink.

But when Mimi brings coins back to the castle, that goes in blue ink.

O'Chunks stays. She doesn't write much for him on the paper. He exercises in his room, helps her with the renovations, and helps her clean. They put real lights in the hallways and rooms. They moved the torches to a closet.

Sometimes he breaks things by accident, and that goes in red ink.

But when he fixes it, it goes in blue ink.

Yesterday had a lot of red and blue contrasting with the black and white.

5:00 Nastasia wakes up and prepares herself and begins tomorrow's list

6:00 O'Chunks Wakes up and Nastasia makes breakfast

7:00 Mimi wakes up, eats and does dishes **25 minutes late**

8:00 Mimi goes to Merlee's Mansion. **20 minutes late**

9:00 O'Chunks lifts weights. Nastasia does Tuesday Inspection.

10:00 O'Chunks and Nastasia regroup. **Kitchen chair: broken**

11:00 Prepare lunch and eat it _chair binded together: replace chair asap_

12:00 Renovate living room

1:00 Renovate living room

2:00 Renovate living room

3:00 Break

4:00 Mop floors **Broken vase** _glass cleaned: don't replace_

5:00 Finish mopping, do quick dusting

6:00 Do lunch dishes and begin making dinner

7:00 Mimi comes home and all eat dinner. **6 hours late**

8:00 Do dishes, watch Flint Cragley

9:00 Watch evening television

10:00 Nastasia prepares to go to bed

11:00 Sleep

12:00 Sleep

1:00 Sleep **Mimi came home. She's intoxicated. Bed: discuss tomorrow**

2:00 Sleep _Mimi brought 150 coins: enough for new chair_

3:00 Sleep

4:00 Sleep

(Next Sheet)

There's a lie on the sheet that nobody knows about except for Nastasia. At eleven o'clock PM, she is not asleep. Not ever. For one of her six hours of sleep she allows herself to think.

She wallows and remembers. Last night she imagined everything differently. If the count had listened to her and they never accepted that jester into their organization. But she changed it.

If the count had stopped his plan after meeting her. If she could have been enough for him. If that could happen, then perhaps she would live here with him. There would be no schedule. There would be too much to write on a single piece of paper. Their future could be a blank page.

She had to change this schedule to account for Mimi's hangover. Nastasia was not her mother. She did not want to know where she had been. This was not the first time. Her only job as a castle-mate was to make sure she got to her room relatively safely.

O'Chunks was worried the first time it had happened. He was a heavy drinker when he was a general. He quit cold turkey.

He loved cold turkey. That was a joke—perhaps in poor taste.

She could hear her sobbing into his arms. They had a long talk.

It didn't stop her from doing this for the past two weekends. Nastasia didn't expect it to. Mimi had found a way to cope. A _not-so-great_ way, but a way.

Nastasia scheduled, O'Chunks helped, and Mimi worked and drank.

They would talk. Mostly about the present tasks or about money. They would have meetings, but never in the meeting room. The meetings would be around food, or near the end of a pre-selected hour.

The rule was that all three of them would have to agree with big decisions.

In the past it had been whatever the count had said. But that was the past. Those papers had been burned.


	2. Anger

**A/N: Thank you to** **Driftstar-Leader of TreeClan! I really appreciate the support. :) I always felt bad for those three. When O'Chunks talks about Nastasia after the main events it's so sad! :'c**

 **I hope you enjoy! ^_^**

 **-FoF**

If were asked to swear on his mother's mashed potatoes, O'Chunks couldn't honestly say that he was content with the way their lives were being lived. It had taken about a week of chaos for Nastasia to step up.

They had said that they wanted to make the worlds better places to live. It was funny; they struggled to manage this castle, which in the grand scheme of things seemed pretty small.

After witnessing Mimi stumble through the front door—apparently not even able to flip directly into her room—he knew that their lives were still in chaos. It was just a planned chaos.

They had talked about separating, but not seriously. Nobody would ever be able to understand what they had been through. They needed each other. That pretty much went without saying.

O'Chunks would have to be strong for both of them. He was the one with the chunks, after all.

He wondered if Nastasia had known about Dimentio and Mimi.

He sure hadn't.

At least, not until Mimi rambled about him as she sobbed into his nightshirt. He wanted to break the jester's neck for making the girl cry so much. It was too bad he was already dead.

During the day—when she was here—Mimi was a typical adolescent girl. Nastasia was the stoic secretary who doubled as a sensible aunt-figure. O'Chunks was the well-meaning, yet slightly bumbling uncle-figure.

They didn't want to talk about how they just couldn't fit into their roles anymore.

He had heard Nastasia cry in the nighttime. Sometimes he would sit outside her bedroom door. Just like he had yesterday.

But she had come out when she heard Mimi. It was a weeknight. They had worried about her. He knew Nastasia had, or he at least _hoped_ she had. He had to, with no small amount of haste, warp out of the hallway.

He was so worked up about Mimi's absence that he ended up binge eating.

If Nastasia had seen either of those things, she didn't say anything.

She did help Mimi up the stairs and into her room.

There were no punishments anymore. That was something O'Chunks realized after he broke his bedroom wall with his fist on the third day after The End. She told him he ought to fix it and that was all. No writing essays, no singing songs...nothing.

He went into Mimi's room as soon as Nastasia went back to her own. He didn't even bother knocking. Her room still hurt his eyes with all of the pink slathered everywhere.

Sitting on the carpet was the best option. He wasn't sure that her bed could support his massive weight. She still had a lopsided grin, and her face was flushed. Her small frame leaned against the wall, though she couldn't seem to stay completely still.

He didn't have to say anything.

"Saw Dimmy today at….at the bar inna...F..Flipside. He's dead...but like he was t-there." Her words were lilting uncontrollably. O'Chunks clenched and unclenched his powerful hands, but kept quiet, knowing she wasn't finished. "And...kept buying the drinks...whatta guy...sorry, I woulda stop...stopped at one or two, but he was so nice, ya know?"

O'Chunks sighed. "Aye, Lass."

"And so, then you won't...believe. He says his name is...uhh...it's not Dimentio. And so we're walkin' and he tried to, heh, say let's hang out at the inn, right…?"

O'Chunks winced. He rose to his feet.

"So I spatta Rubee in his face and it knocked 'em out." And the grin made a swift return.

"Good 'n yeh."O'Chunks chuckled despite himself. He was about five nanoseconds from tracking the guy down and chunking him into next _year_. He sat back down.

"Thought'd hadta go full spider true-Mimi to take...take him down. He wasn't even Dimmy..." Mimi breathed out loudly in a cross between a sigh and a groan. "It doesn't...hurt."

"Lass, stay 'ere."

O'Chunks was back after a few minutes with two tall glasses of water.

"I want yeh to drink all of 'is."

Mimi groaned, throwing her head back to look at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. "Not thirsty." She drank the water anyway.

"Mimi," O'Chunks started, taking her small hand in his much larger one. "This needs teh stop. Goin' out on a Friday or Saturday for a few rounds wit'a chum or two's fine. Drinkin' alone on a Tuesday...That guy, if he 'ad magic...yeh'd be caught like a wee lamb in a bear trap."

She slid down off her bed, and onto the floor. "I'cn make my own choices, Chunky."

He took her by the shoulders. "Mimi, a've been there before. This needs teh stop righ' now. If yeh have t' drink, do it 'ere. Or least bring someone wit' ya."

Tears were pouring down her cheeks. She clung to him as if he were a life preserver that a hunky lifeguard threw into the water. This was the third time.

They all got up late the next morning.

He watched Nastasia scribble in that damn red pen. She had the black one attached to the clipboard, but the red and blue pens both lived in her hair.

Mimi managed to wake up only an hour late left without having more than a few sips of coffee and a piece of bread. O'Chunks figured that the liquor messed with the amount she _could_ sleep.

Nastasia stared at the clipboard. O'Chunks watched as she pulled out the blue pen. Maybe she thought Mimi wouldn't be up yet.

"We'll get a new chair today."

They had thrown away the other three chairs.

He didn't like to think about them for too long. Thinking about building a place the count would be proud of was one thing, but that traitor, and the Green Thunder were two people he didn't want in his mind for two very different reasons. O'Chunks was very prone to fits of rage, and that was no secret. Excercising helped him to manage his anger. It was the only thing that was in his personal schedule, though it wasn't written down.

It was only when he was using his (thankfully virtually indestructable) punching bag that he thought about Dimentio.

Sure, the count had betrayed all of them in a way, but O'Chunks would never admit that to himself.

Never.

Count Bleck had saved his life. After that fateful battle, he was broken forever, but then he was found. He was put back together. That count could never do anything wrong in his eyes. He did the right thing in the end anyway. It was all for love.

Dimentio was all for chaos.

And Mr. L, well….

He didn't want to think of him at all. Because he's too hard to justify. It's too hard to look at Nastasia when that man's image is in his inner eye.

"I'm taking a walk in Flopside today. I'll be back at one." Nastasia said, adjusting her glasses.

"See yeh then."

And he was alone.

He grabbed a bag of chips. The couch and television were waiting. It was time to watch one of his Flint Cragley Bonus DVDs.


	3. Pretense

**A/N: Hi guys! I think this is going to be longer than just a threeshot. Thank you to my reviewers!**

 **MagicQuill42: It means a lot that you think they're in character! Thank you. :) I hope you like this chapter!**

 **Driftstar-Leader of TreeClan: Thanks! I feel so bad for O'Chunks too. :( I'm glad you think so! Thank you for your review. 3**

Mimi likes to pretend. She always liked playing with dolls as a little girl. Now she pretends to be her dead friends.

Well that sounds awfully dark, doesn't it?

Sometimes, in the young hours of the morning, she'll turn on her old nightlight and stand in front of the mirror. She doesn't need that nightlight anymore. That little thing can't possibly get rid of enough darkness to matter. It makes the room a little less dim, so she would turn it on and stand in front of the mirror. Her reflection was not hers exactly. Suddenly the mirror would show Count Bleck.

She would look down at the shaggy carpet and say something to the count. Then she'd look up and the count would reply. Then she'd be Mr. L and do the same. And finally, Dimentio.

The Dimentio in the mirror would apologize. He'd explain. He would say it's complicated, why he did it. And she would nod. He'd say he doesn't deserve her. He'd promise to make it up to her. That there's more to them than those few moments.

Somtimes Dimentio would beg her to move on, and that part of him would live on inside of her. The only good part of him. That's why he was bad. She took all the good from him, because he gave it to her. Because surely he loved her. She wasn't just a tool for his plan. He didn't need her trust. She wasn't a game. She was more than a toy.

She was more than someone's dress-up doll.

And then she would hear the shower turn on. That meant she had about an hour and a half to take a nap.

At Merlee's Mansion, she'd pretend to be a pretend-maid rather than a real one. She would pretend that she was waiting for the heroes to arrive, but she'd do some real housework just to be extra convincing.

It was easier this way.

Merlee was never put off by Mimi's tardiness. She didn't really look at clocks too much. Once, Merlee even offered to charm her. She had said that Mimi needed good fortune in her life. Mimi declined.

When she returned from work, Nastasia was waiting. Mimi knew, because the woman made a point of saying so. O'Chunks was nowhere in sight.

"'K, so, if you want to stay out that late, you'll need to tell us." Nastasia said, voice monotonus as always. As she looked up, her glasses flashed the new ceiling light into Mimi's eyes.

Mimi crossed her arms. She released the sack of coins she had been holding in her left hand. One loud _clang,_ made up of a series of _clinks,_ resonated through the empty halls. "I make the coins. You are _not_ in charge of me." The green girl stared at her own eyes reflected in the lenses. They looked like two little voids.

"Right…I'm still gonna need to know when you're coming back so I can pencil you in."

Frustration bubbled to Mimi's cheeks. She glared at the clipboard in Nastasia's hands.

They had been on good terms in the beginning. Nastasia's methods began to take its toll on their relationship. Her obsessive planning was not welcome in Mimi's life. She was young despite it all. She remembered what Merlon had said that day, and she had taken it to heart. Maybe she was the only one.

The future would be a blank page.

Sometimes part of that page would be written about her past. It would be written as life happened...not _before._

She would go to the mansion every day except for Sundays. The time was not predetermined. It was like that on purpose.

"Are you even listen—"

" _What_ is your problem?" Mimi interrupted, stamping a foot on the stony floor. Maybe some of her inhibitions were still gone from the night before. Maybe this had been building up for a long time. "You can't just write my life out for me _every single day_. I'll come back whenever I want to. Maybe I just won't come back! Then you won't have to change all of your stupid plans every day, Nassy!"

The blinding color of rage was the last thing Mimi saw before she warped into her own room. She had not waited for a response. She didn't see if she had broken her mask of stoicism.

They all were in need of some kind of talk. Mimi didn't know how much longer this act could go on. Perhaps she should leave.

But where would she go?

She realized that she had threatened to leave without return. Could she do that? Was she ready to put this all behind her?

Mimi stared into the mirror at her own reflection. She'd loved her appearence. Now she could barely recognize herself. It was too late to change it. .At one point in her life she had forgotten what she had looked like. This was the closest she could get. All she could remember was that she was a girl who had black eyes. She assumed she was green skinned and haired, but that could easily have been false.

Dimentio had once told her that the more you try to remember something the more corrupted it gets. Sometimes it gets so corrupted that most of it isn't even true. That's why some people have two very different memories of the same thing.

She rembered the trap set in her room. She remembered how Count Bleck set it up so that she would die along with the heroes. O'Chuns had mentioned the ceiling collapse in his room.

Everything went in her diary so that nothing would be corrupted. Half of the contents of the diary under her pillow were of that one day. So much happend. Most of it was not planned.

Sometimes when she was brooding in her room she wondered if Nastasia felt badabout brainwashing Luigi. Mr. L was a pain sometimes, but he and Mimi actually started getting along pretty well.

She still had so many questions to ask. Most of them she never would be able to. The only ones who could answer them were dead. She had a few questions for Nastasia. She would never be able to ask them, because she was too afraid of the answers.

She crawled into her bed though it was still before dinner. She longed for the buzz and burn of alcohol to take her away. She didn't want to think anymore.


End file.
